


Circle Means Go

by Happy_Orc



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Color Blindness, Driving, Gen, Hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:14:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27185026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Happy_Orc/pseuds/Happy_Orc
Summary: Prompto and Gladio are driving back to the Leville after a quick hunt when Prompto discovered that perhaps it's best if Gladio never drives again.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	Circle Means Go

**Author's Note:**

> This came about because someone asked which of the bros would be colour blind.
> 
> I know the lay out of Lestallum is not the same as in the game, but I'm expanding the videogame world to be more like the real world, where there are lots of small winding streets in old cities.

Prompto sighed and ran his hand though his sweaty hair again. Duscae was just too hot for words, and for some gods forsaken reason Gladio insisted on driving with the top down. Usually that wasn’t too much of a problem, the speeds they drove allowed for enough of a breeze to cool down, but they were approaching Lestallum, and Lestallum was a crowded city with narrow, winding streets. There would be stop lights. There would be pedestrian crossings. And it was a well known fact that Gladio liked to sit with the top down so he could impress all those hot power plant ladies.

He sent a quick text to Noct saying that they were almost in the city and that they had finished their hunt. He hoped his friend was feeling better, these headaches of his had been pretty worrisome, but then Ignis had stayed behind to take care of the prince and Prompto knew from experience that the advisor was one of the best caretakers ever.

He might have also complained about the heat. Again. For the 57th time, if Noct’s response was to be believed.

It was gonna suck. Maybe Prompto could get out at the first light and just walk there instead of sitting in this hot mess of a car. He peeled his shoulders off the back of the seat, and felt how utterly soaked his clothes were. Thankfully the Levelle had a laundry room cause these clothes? They were gross. All of him was gross. Prompto was looking forward to a nice cold shower followed by a nice long nap in nice clean sheets.  
  


Though, now that he really thought about it, Gladio would probably call shotgun to the shower. But then, if he walked, he’d get there after Gladio was done. But on the other hand, did he really want to walk out in public while his entire back and ass were damp from sweat? Not to mention the dirt and grime on his clothes. And was that a blood stain on his pants? Maybe. Maybe he should stay in the car.

Prompto wiped his hand over his face again, wiping away more sweat. “Dude, you sure you don’t wanna turn on the air conditioning? It’s kinda hot.”

Gladio snorted. He spared Prompto a quick glance before turning his eyes to the road again. “Stop being a damn wuss, it’s really not that bad.”

“It IS that bad. I think I’m about to start swimming here, man! Can we at least put the top up? Get some sun protection?” The car started slowing down, they were getting close to the city and traffic was picking up.

Gladio gave him a side look. “It’s called sunscreen, kid.”  
  
That had Prompto rolling his eyes. “Dude, sunscreen isn’t gonna protect me form death by heat.”

“That’s the heat, no the sun.”

“The sun is causing the heat! Come on man, let’s get some shade in here, I’m pretty sure I’m in danger of spontaneous human combustion,” Prompto groaned.

Traffic continued to slow down. The breeze kept dying. Prompto could spell the exhaust from the cars around him. The burned gas clung to his sweaty skin and made him feel even more gross. But Gladio continued to remain unaffected. He sat there, his hair flapping in the wind, one elbow on the side of the car, abs glistening in the sun, and amused smirk pointed at his melting companion. “Pretty sure you’re a smidge too moist to combust, kid.” Prompto glowered as best he could.

As they pulled off the highway and entered the city proper, Prompto caught sight of the shield subtly trying to fix his windswept hair and fix his jacket. The blond grumbled a response as he readjusted again. He was pretty sure that he could hear suction noises from the seat when he adjusted himself.

The light up ahead was turning red, and he could hear Gladio make a satisfied sound. Prompto reached down to grab a drink, long since gone scalding, to replenish his lost fluids. And then he felt the car speed up. He looked up and saw that they were fast approaching the intersection. And Gladio was not slowing down.

“Dude, what are—what are you – dude, _slow down_!” Prompto dropped the water bottle and grabbed onto the leather seat, fingers digging into the padding as he braced for impact.

“What, why? Speed limit’s 50, there’s no one in front of us,” the bastard replied as he cruised through the red light. By some miracle there was no accident.

“ _Because the light was red, man!”_ He was pretty sure his voice cracked when he said it, but Prompto was too stressed to care.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure that the round bottom light is go, Prompto,” the shield snorted, his tone more than just a bit condescending.

“ _What?”_ It came out strained. “Dude. Dude, the bottom light is red. Red means stop.”

“Prompto, come on. The stop light is the square one. The go light is the round one.” He was drawing the shapes in the air, while still driving down the main boulevard. Prompto tried to get himself under control, he really did, but after the hunts and the heat and the adrenaline currently pumping through his body, he was coming a bit undone.

“ _They're all round here!”_ Thank the astrals that there were cars in front of them now, at least they would stop at the red lights.

“Kid, calm down.” Oh, he was getting annoyed. That rumbley tone was back. Fantastic. “I think I know enough about cars and traffic to get us to out destination in one piece. Which is more than I can say for you.”

He was never gonna live that down. “OK, one, how was it my fault that the engine died and two, we cam out of that in one piece, dude.” They pulled to a stop behind an old clunker but Prompto didn’t even care anymore about the heat, there was too much adrenaline going through his system from his recent brush with death.

“You were the one driving, weren’t you?”  
  
“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure that Cindy said there was a coolant leak and the damn engine over heated, and that isn’t my fault.” Because it wasn’t. And he needed the others to understand that if he had any hope of ever driving the Regalia again. Which he needed to be able to do since Gladio couldn’t see the difference between a red and green light.  
  
Wait a minute.

“Uh. Dude. What's the colour of my shirt?” He held out his damp red tank top so that Gladio might be able to see it a bit better.

“What?”  
  
“My shirt. Is it red or green?”

“What? Why is that important?” Was that defensive uncertainty in Gladio’s voice?

“Cause I suck at colour coordination, according to Ignis.”  
  
“You suck at pattern coordination according to Ignis, kid.”  
  
Prompto waved that comment off because, yeah, Ignis complained about that too. Prompto was loud, and his clothes were loud, and he would continue adding patches to everything right up until the day his superiors said otherwise. And Cor and Noct hadn’t said anything yet. Technically Ignis and Gladio outranked him, but that was a technicality and getting out of shit on technicalities was something he and Noct excelled at. Though he had been warned that if he were to altar his tux for the wedding in any way, Ignis would come for him and he would be eviscerated.

“I suck at a lot of things big guy, but uh. My shirt. It’s gr—I mean, what colour is it?”

“It’s green,” came the growled reply. They turned off the main boulevard and started into the winding mazes of the city.

Well, shit. Gladio was colour blind. How had no one noticed this before? He fluffed some air through his shirt a few times before letting it settle back against his sticky skin. Why hadn’t he said anything before? Gladio turned the radio up, signaling that he was done with the conversation. So the question was, how do you get a grumpy Gladio to hand over the keys to the car? The answer is Ignis. But there was no Ignis here. Hold out still they get to the Leville? If Prompto’s memory served him then there would be no more stop lights along the way, they were all along the main boulevard. So Prompto sat back and thought about how nice that shower was gonna be when they finally got there. He’d worry about delicately sharing this information with Ignis after he felt a bit better.


End file.
